


a sorta fairytale

by missymeggins



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missymeggins/pseuds/missymeggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's still new to her, this feeling of not always being perfectly in control. It's a feeling she's discovered occurs all the more since Myka Bering became the focus of her world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a sorta fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Assumes an established relationship between Myka/H.G in a future where H.G is no longer/or never was dead. However you choose to see it is fine by me. Also, first Warehouse 13 fic!Also, it's pretty fluffy. You have been warned.

It's late in the afternoon when they finally make it back to Leena's and they're all exhausted, content to simply _stop_ and forget for a little while that sometimes (mainly all the time) working for the Warehouse is the most dangerous thing they've ever done with their lives and even though they pretend it's all fun and games with things that smell like fudge and kettles that sprout ferrets, the truth is that some days they are so rudely reminded that one day they might simply cease to exist. 

Today it had been Myka's turn to sit in that particular hot-seat, and that fear still hangs heavily over Helena's head, catching in her throat and threatening to cloud her vision with tears.

She lags behind, waiting until Pete and Claudia have walked up the steps before she reaches out to Myka, tugging gently on her wrist. “Myka, wait a moment, can we talk please?”

Myka turns to face her with questioning eyes. “Sure, what's up?”

Helena takes a breath, attempting to steady her nerves, uncomfortable with the way her heart is beating in her chest. (It's still new to her, this feeling of not always being perfectly in control. It's a feeling she's discovered occurs all the more since Myka Bering became the focus of her world.)

“What happened today has made me think,” she says, somewhat stiltedly. “About the future. About _my_ future and what I want. I've always known working for the Warehouse is dangerous, but I guess it's only now that I'm beginning to understand exactly what that means for those who choose this life.”

She pauses, breathing heavily at the weight of the words she wishes she didn't have to voice. “You could have _died_ today Myka.”

“Helena, come on, I'm fine,” Myka responds lightly, stepping close enough to brush her fingers gently down Helena's arm. “It wasn't a big deal,” she shrugs.

(It's not entirely _true_ of course, but she finds it best to pretend that her life isn't as precarious as it actually is. It's the only way she knows to balance the love she feels for the endless wonders of the Warehouse and the fear that grips her when she thinks of the people she could lose because of it.)

Helena swallows the lump that forms in her throat and looks down to find her hands anxiously clasped together. “Yes, well, whatever your feelings on the matter, it was rather a very big deal to me. It _changes_ things Myka.”

There's silence between them now and when Helena finally looks up she finds that the look on Myka's face is nothing like she expected. Myka looks _angry._

“Uh uh, no,” she says tightly, actually shaking a finger at Helena. “If you're thinking of asking me to leave the Warehouse... well don't you even dare Helena Wells,” Myka shakes her head almost violently and her voice is raised to what Helena knows to be a dangerous pitch. “You can't. It's my home.”

Helena closes her eyes. “That's not what I'm trying to -” she attempts to explain, but doesn't get a chance to finish because Myka cuts her off with a fresh accusation.

“Or wait, are you breaking up with me?” There's hurt in her eyes but it's superseded by the anger on her face and the way she's resting her hand on her hip, a stance she rarely adopts but Helena knows means business when she does. “Well you know what?,” she continues looking Helena straight in the eye, “You don't get to do that either. You can't just make decisions about us without including me. And danger is not a good enough excuse for giving up on this relationship.”

“Myka!” Helena finds herself yelling – partly to shock her ranting girlfriend into silence and partly because she's more than a little angry herself right now. “Stop. That's not even marginally close to what I was trying to say. And quite frankly, I'm a little insulted that you would jump to those conclusions so quickly.”

“Oh.” Myka breathes, feeling relief flood through her body, only to be replaced by trepidation as she sees the look on Helena's face. “What were you trying to tell me?” she asks meekly, her arms falling by her sides now.

“No,” Helena shaking her head and waving her hand in the air dismissively. “This no longer feels the right time for this conversation. Forget it please,” she says as she walks quickly up the steps in to Leena's.

Myka brushes a hand through her hair, sighing at her ability to freak out so epically when it comes to the woman who, truth be told, actually makes her feel more safe and more at home than anyone else in her life. It's a stupid dichotomy, she knows.

“Shit,” she sighs to herself as she heads inside, conscious of the need to make things right as quickly as possible.

 

-

 

Myka enters her bedroom cautiously – though perhaps _their_ bedroom would be a more accurate term since although Helena does have her own bedroom at the B&B, occupied by her few belongings, it's rare that she sleeps anywhere other than Myka's bed these days – only to find it empty.

She walks back into the hall and now hears the shower running inside the bathroom.

“Helena?” she calls, standing next to the door. “Can I come in?”

There's no answer, and though Myka would prefer to believe it's as simple as Helena not hearing her, the truth is she knows better. So she opens the door – quietly thankful for the lack of locks; something she's been more than irritated by in the past – and quickly strips down, stepping into the shower without hesitation.

Helena jumps at the shock and says “Myka what on earth are you doing?”

“You're mad at me,” Myka answers. “I don't _want_ you to be mad at me.”

Helena looks away and her voice is uncharacteristically soft when she speaks. “I'm not mad Myka,” she sighs, running her hands through her wet hair.

“Yes you are,” Myka pushes. “I _know_ you Helena, I know when you're mad.” 

“I'm hurt, not mad. There's a difference,” Helena says stiffly. She tries to turn her back on the other woman but Myka won't let her retreat from this, gently holding her by the arm and spinning her around so they're face to face.

“Hey,” Myka says softly, running her hand down Helena's arms, tracing the drops of water as they glide down her skin, “I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry.”

“I thought you knew me better than that Myka,” Helena answers, reaching out to run a hand through Myka's curls, currently being drenched by the stream of the shower.

Myka closes her eyes at the touch, so familiar and so calming and whispers, “I'm so sorry. I got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

Helena brings her hand to her cheek. “Open your eyes Myka.”

She does.

“You don't have to be scared with me. I'm not going anywhere and I would never ask you to leave the Warehouse. I know what it means to you.”

“You mean more,” Myka tells her honestly.

Helena smiles softly, in a way only Myka is ever permitted to to see. “I'd have settled for just as much, but more is better.”

Myka laughs as she settles her hands on Helena's hips and pulls her closer, kissing her softly in a gesture that's both an apology and a silent question. _Forgive me?_ Helena kisses her back in answer. There's water dripping down their faces and between their lips but all they feel is relief. And love. 

“So, do you wanna tell me what was on your mind out there?” Myka asks gently.

“This really isn't the place for such a conversation Myka,” she deflects quickly.

“Helena, it doesn't _matter_ where we are. You can talk to me, always. I want to know what you're thinking.” 

“Later. Really darling, it's better that way,” Helena persists.

“No,” Myka says shaking her head. “Talk to me Helena, please?”

The older woman sighs, but takes a deep breath, telling herself this moment really is as good as any because the woman she loves is standing before her, with love in her eyes, asking to be let in. So she takes Myka's strength and uses it to conquer her fear.

“Contrary to your hasty assumptions, I was not trying to break up with you or use the danger of our jobs as an excuse for anything. “But,” she pauses briefly, “seeing you in such danger forced me to come to terms with certain realities. One, that our lives could end at any moment. And two, that you are the single most important thing in my world.”

She stops now, leaning her forehead against Myka's and dropping her voice to a breathy whisper, as once again she finds her heart hammering in her chest most disconcertingly. “And what I was _trying_ to find the courage to ask you was, will you marry me?”

“What?” Myka says shakily, completely taken off guard, and abruptly pulling out of Helena's grasp.

Helena takes a breath before continuing, never letting her eyes stray from Myka's, “I know, it's old fashioned, but I'm nothing if not a product of my time and I can't help but feel that when you find someone who makes your life as wonderful as you make mine, the only proper thing to do is marry them because, while I know you can never truthfully promise to be with someone forever, that's about the best promise you _can_ make. And Myka, I want to be with you always.”

“You know we can't actually legally get married in South Dakota right?” Myka stammers, and it's unlike her to be so frazzled but she wasn't expecting this.

“Yes, Claudia did mention something to that effect but she assured me she would help me work out all the logisticslater,” Helena answers, in what she hopes is a calm, strong voice because Myka seems to be freaking out a little and Helena's still got butterflies in her tummy because she's said the words and they're out there but this isn't exactly going as smoothly as she had hoped. 

“Wait, you talked to Claudia about this? I thought – I thought this was a spur of the moment decision because of today's mission?” Myka stares at the tiled wall behind them, eyes narrowing the way she does when she's trying to puzzle out the solution to some problem.

Helena just nods, and gently rests her hand on Myka's shoulder in an effort to calm her. “Yes, well, asking – or   
_trying_  
to ask you – outside before   
_was_  
a spur of the moment decision but the intent has been in my mind for some time.”

Myka raises a hand to her mouth and starts shaking her head ever so slightly. Helena can't tell if there are tears on her cheeks or if it's just the spray of the shower still settling all over them.

“Myka, darling,” Helena starts, and she can hear the way her voice shakes ever so slightly. “Say something? You're making me nervous.”

“I'm making you nervous?” Myka repeats slowly.

“You haven't actually given me an answer,” Helena tells her gently.

At this Myka lifts her eyes to Helena's, as if finally accepting the reality of the moment, and the smile that lights her face is radiant. “Yes,” she says, “Of course my answer is yes!”

And she throws her arms around Helena's neck, kissing her fiercely.

-

 

Leena's just setting down dinner on the dining room table when Myka and H.G enter hand in hand.

H.G clears her throat, “Everyone, we have an announcement to make,” H.G tells them, smiling widely as she wraps an arm around Myka's waist. When the other turn to look at them expectantly she takes a deep breath, feeling the happiness rising again in her chest.

“We are engaged,” she tells them proudly.

“Oh my god seriously?” Claudia squeals excitedly, jumping from her seat at the table to tackle them both in a huge hug.

Leena smiles broadly, offering a quiet “Congratulations.”

Pete grins at them both struggling not to fall over under Claudia's attack and is genuinely enthusiastic in saying, “That's awesome!” Which, he then follows up – after a quick look from one woman to the other – with a curious, “Hey why is your hair wet?”

“Oh, we were in the shower,” Myka replies distractedly, still extracting herself from Claudia's embrace.

“Aw, what?” Claudia whines, pulling away and making a face at H.G. “You proposed to her in the shower? I mean, I'm all for spontaneous but come on, I put a lot of effort into your proposal plan! The shower? Really?”

“I'm sorry Claudia, it just seemed like the right moment,” Helena shrugs with an apologetic smile.

“Is that cos you were both naked?” Pete quips, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Myka says, with a quick punch to his shoulder. “If you're not nice to me, I'm not going to ask you to be my best man.”

Pete slaps his hands to his mouth and actually jumps up and down a little. “I get to be your best man? That's so cool! Although,” he adds thoughtfully, “It's not exactly traditional.”

“Seriously Pete? I'm marrying H.G Wells, a women who the world thinks is a _man_ who lived over a hundred years ago. I think the boat has sailed on traditional.”

“You have a point,” he replies. “Okay, back to being super excited now!”

Myka laughs and turns to Claudia now, almost predatory in the way she approaches the young women. “So Claud, tell me more about this proposal plan you'd been cooking up?”

“Well, firstly, H.G was gonna take you to Paris -” Claudia begins, but is quickly cut off by H.G's hand covering her mouth.

“Uh uh, I think we'll keep the rest of those details a secret. I'm sure I'll find another appropriate occasion to use all your hard work my dear.”

Myka looks at Helena, “You were gonna take me to Paris?”

Helena just shrugs and nods.

“I love you,” Myka whispers, practically launching herself into H.G's arms and hugging her tightly.

“Awwww,” Pete and Claudia say in unison, grinning madly at the depth of Myka and H.G's obvious happiness in this moment.

“I hope you're not disappointed,” Helena whispers in Myka's ear.

“Never,” Myka answers her lovingly.

“Do I even want to know what's going on?” they hear Artie ask gruffly from behind them.

Helena and Myka untangle themselves quickly, looking a little sheepish. Artie still has a habit of looking at them like they're teenagers whenever he happens to catch them in a public display of affection.

“Myka and H.G are engaged!” Pete cries gleefully.

“Excellent!” Artie exclaims though his voice does anything but match the enthusiasm of his word choice. “Perhaps the happy couple would like to take a pre-wedding trip to Boston. We just got a ping.”

Pete and Claudia share a quick glance and with matching grins, they turn to Myka and H.G. “Group hug?” is all they say, and suddenly Artie finds himself enveloped in the arms of his four Warehouse agents, all of who are wearing such silly grins that he can't help softening a little and offering a gruff but sincere, “Oh all right, congratulations! I _am_ happy for you both.”

“Thank you Artie,” Myka grins, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

They all take their seats at the table, where Leena has now poured glasses of champagne, offering a toast “To Myka and H.G!” and for the rest of the evening the room is filled with the sounds of laughter and happy chatter – and Artie, trying desperately to explain the details of their new case.

No one really listens.

 

 

-

 

Helena curls herself behind Myka, holding her close with a hand on her stomach and kissing the back of her neck softly.

(They fall asleep like this most nights. It's the kind of consistency they like cling to. Much like each other really.)

“So,” Myka says sleepily, “Do I have to wear the the dress and everything?”

“You may whatever you want Myka,” Helena whispers, kissing her with more pressure now, loving the way Myka presses into her touch with soft little sighs. “You'll be beautiful in anything and it will be the happiest day of my life, regardless.”

“Do you picture me in a white dress?” Myka murmurs, smiling to herself, somewhat amazed at the pure joy she feels thinking about the possibilities. She was never really one to imagine her wedding day – she certainly never did with Sam, given the complications of their relationship. Odd though it may be - Helena being _who_ she is, from _when_ she is - with her it just seems perfectly easy to imagine.

Helena laughs now, low and throaty, sliding a hand under Myka's singlet to stroke her skin. “It's rare that I picture you in any clothes at all darling.”

Myka can't help the burst of laughter that flows from her mouth and she turns to face her lover, pulling their bodies together as tightly as she can, “You are amazing Helena Wells and I am so in love with you.”

“I'm glad to hear that darling, it might have made the marriage thing a tad awkward otherwise,” Helena answers with a grin, pressing her lips to Myka's before she has time to respond.

And Myka finds she really can't be bothered trying, much preferring to tangle one hand through Helena's hair as the other takes a lazy, utterly torturous path (for her lover that is) down Helena's stomach and between her thighs.

(They do like to tease. But really, sex is always better.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
